


The Timeless Prisoner

by Spymaster13



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Book: Shada, Christmas, Christmas Morning, F/M, Isolation, Mutual Pining, POV Thirteenth Doctor, Pining, Post-Episode: s09e11 Heaven Sent, Post-Episode: s12e10 The Timeless Children, Prison, Psychological Torture, Revolutionofthedaleks, The Doctor (Doctor Who) Needs a Hug, The Pandorica, Time Lord Telepathy (Doctor Who), Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:48:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27034441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spymaster13/pseuds/Spymaster13
Summary: No one knows quite how long the blonde lady at the very last cell in the most secure prison on Shada has been there. The guards say she talks to herself at night, sometimes they hear the most horrible sobbing and rattling of the cage. But legends die out sooner or later, and as the guards grow older, they forget the story of how the Judoon captured the Doctor, and how they hold the most dangerous prisoner in the universe under their nose.Shame she's forgotten herself too. Alone, desperate and on her last hope, the Doctor sends out a cry for help among the stars.Maybe, if the universe is kind, it might just be Christmas morning.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 70





	The Timeless Prisoner

THE TIMELESS PRISONER

"*This* is Prisoner Theta Sigma?" 

She could hear the guards footsteps outside her cell, but she couldn't get up. Not even if she wanted to. Every bone in her body ached, every cell in her mind on fire. Utterly exhausted with plotting new ways to escape for almost a month straight, only to be foiled by the ever changing computer system that she cursed as it read her mind and got a step ahead of her each time. *Time.* It was something she thought a lot about recently, how she had more time than anyone in the universe, more time than the guards outside her cell, no matter what race they happened to be. And how ironic that the time had been stripped away from her the moment she was teleported here, left to rot out her long days, months, years in the all too familiar cell with four walls and a tiny ventilation shaft at the very top so that she could circulate the air. Sometimes on a bad day, if a solar storm passed by, say, the vents became blocked off and she had to activate her binary respiratory system to stay alive while her porcalain skin was caked with smoke, her wheezing filling the walls but drowned out by the cries of the other prisoners. 

She had become quite friendly with an Ood shipped in from Ahkaten after his master had falsely reported him of a robbery that gave his owner a lifetime supply of jet power, enough to get him a good solar system away by the time the Judoon showed up. At least she thought they had become friends, he often rolled over a slice of chalk with the strength he had so that they could each tally the day as it passed by on the wall. The Doctor had hated this idea at first, detested keeping track of time catching up to her. But the more she grew weak and unable to leave a corner of her cell, the more she grew to appreciate when the Ood would roll the chalk across the hall, she would mark a tick, then push it back with the strength she could muster. Of course that could have been months, or even years ago. She grew so tired of watching other prisoners get weaker than her until they were taken away by the heavily cloaked guards, kept alive only by her body's infuriating habit of staying alive on the brink of death. 

The Doctor had been a prisoner before, of course. And once it was self inflicted. But this was different. This was life, against her own choice. The moment her mind had snapped from the shocking revelation that she had been the Timeless Child all along, that she was older than all of her best mates on Gallifrey and would outlive everyone in the end, that her parents, her real parents, had given her away for- what? For this? Trapped in the same four walls forever whilst different species came along and sneered at her through the bars that the Doctor had been captured at last? 

"What's left of her," the gruff security guard replied with a disinterested shrug. "Legend has it, she's not even supposed to be here. What do you make of that, Georgie? Means you do what the Judoon tell you, least you want to end up like her." 

"Is she...breathing?" the younger man asked, funny- he looked human. "How regularly do you maintain these cells and keep the prisoners fed?"

"Once every few months," the guard replied with a nasty smile, aiming a kick at the bars. "If the guard on duty remembers to check the registrar. I've seen her go three months without sustenance once. She ain't human- whatever she is. But we've got a running case file on that." 

The Doctor didn't react. She hated this guard more than the most, he seemed to have a special hatred reserved just for her. Since being forced out of her comfy outfit filled with rainbows, it seemed that all the color had drained out of the world. She hadn't been changed out of her horrible red prisoner jumpsuit with strange markings all down the front, her hair was oily and tangled around her head. On rare occasions, she was allowed into the dank and frigid showers, where she was conscious indeed of her new body, and her new vulnerability compared to the other prisoners, who were mostly male. 

"He's speaking to you, Sigma," the guard snarled. "If you want your points to rank up, Id suggest you muster up what's left of your voice." 

The Doctor remained silent. The guard raised an eyebrow, glaring her down, tall and very intimidating. She cleared her throat, her voice hoarse and deep after going so long without speaking, not seeing the point.

"Nine hund' seven- four," she managed to get out.

"Having trouble with her lately," the guard looked apologetic at her visitor. "Night watch says she has visions, shoutin' at cybermen and some sorta machine in her sleep. But its odd- they say she never *does* sleep. Her body just- stops. Lets her rest. Been doing this for all the time she's here. Had a rough time at the start, I'll tell ya that. She almost organized an entire prison rebellion. We've had to move her five times." 

"And the numbers, that's the number of days she's been here?" the visitor asked, biting his finger nervously. 

"That would be a nice fantasy," the guard chuckled. "One I'm sure she'd like to believe. As the most secure prisoner in this facility, we keep her within a time lock. 974. *That* is the number of years." 

It was quite strange, this guest was far more intrigued with her than all the others had been, but she didn't recognize the young boy at all. She could barely see through her hazed eyes, her slurred speech almost making it seem like she was drunk from delusion. The guard she hated said something else to the young lad, his speech mumbled and unclear, her head fuzzy. The walls of her cell were all she'd known for months on end, perhaps years. It was enough to drive anyone insane by even introducing something remotely new to her environment. The iron door to her cell was opening- creaking on its rusty old hinges and the young boy was stepping forward. Bending down, placing his hands over her cuffs that chained her rather useless form to the wall.

"Doctor?" the young boy asked, sending a horrible wince through her body.

She cried out in pain, in fear, a horrible half scream that echoed around the cell from the moment it left her lips. Her eyes tried to focus on something, anything, but the cell faded away and filtered from her vision. She was on a battlefield, the fam were running alongside her, she could feel a touch on her skin- a burning, searing sensation running through her spine as the taste of iron blood echoed on her tongue. The hand placed on her cheek made her whirl around in panic to abruptly come to an explosion sending her hurling through the air, crashing to the caked mud and dirtying her blonde hair, spread out like a ray of sunlight. Metal, clanking footsteps came nearer, ever closer, and all too soon he stood before her in all his glory, the Lone Cyberman, with the twisted face and blue eyes cased in broken metal, with his bandaged armor drenched in blood from wars long forgotten. 

"Doctor!" 

She couldn't respond even if she wanted to. The cyberman's hand was wrapping around her throat as it struggled with her weight to heave her off the ground, her legs kicking and shaking feebly as she tried to escape his grip, to no avail. His hand felt around the delicate veins and arteries and slowly, agonizingly started to *squeeze* after finding just the right one. She could feel a release of heavy metal objects, her hands no longer pinned down beneath her, but her body was so weak- so worn down she couldn't even move herself. Choking, sputtering noises escaped her lips, the marked and damaged skin burning, her mind swirling. Make it stop, make it stop...

"Doctor!!" the young boys voice had become older, a disguise melted away. "I don't- I don't understand- what the *fuck* have they done??" 

Always quick and ready with an explanation for everything, the Doctor tried to tell him how the guards had stuck a needle in her neck when they had caught her body automatically glowing late into the night many years ago, pumped her full of drugs to keep her mind docile and her limbs useless, but it came out a garbled scream. A soft, familiar hand traced another cut upon the bridge of her nose and she was plunged from the battlefield into a very different time and place, the universe rumbled and swirled around her. Yasmin Khan's eyes were wide, filled with tears as the Doctor dislodged herself from her grip, fury and grief bubbling up inside her chest.

"Get OFF me Yaz!" she screamed, no touch, she never liked touch. "Please." 

What would have been tears if her body could produce enough vitamins to produce salty water threatened to fall down the Doctors cheeks, her throat dry and raspy. The child had turned into a man, a tall, tan skinned man donned in a purple suit. Did she know him? He walked in her memories, but even now the Doctor was unsure how much of her past was really real. She felt his course hand trace a cut on her side with the emotion she once knew to be concern, or perhaps fury- his eyes were flashing in a murderous rage.

"NO!" she attempted a half scream, her voice thick, rusty without use for ages. "G-off, ge- off m'!!!" 

The man retracted his touch immediately, cursing as he turned away. She could see his mind whirl behind his eyes, working out a million possibilities at once. His hand quickly found the patch on her neck, a remain of the most recent visit from the Judoon advance guard. It spread up from her thin, sculpted collarbones, tiny puncture wounds all neatly in a row as though she had been stabbed repeatedly with a medical device lined with hundreds of needles. 

"No touch," the man growled. "How the *fuck* do I move you? The perfect prison. You're free and you don't even realize. Must've been a class A memory transferral drug, outlawed in almost seven galaxies. Why *you?* What is it you know? What do they want from you?" 

The Doctor couldn't look him in the eyes. Her vision was hazy, her gaze drifting around the tiny cell in every direction, overstimulated by this new presence, trying to figure out why she was here, why she had been taken captive, what had happened to her TARDIS? Where did the Judoon take it and- why was he here? She tried to focus on a single thought but the fleeting moments all left her head the moment they entered and she tried to grip onto one, floating away like smoke. She gave a tiny, pitiful scream of frustration, wanting to ask so many questions all at the same time- who, why? Where? But no sound could escape her lips except broken cries. She curled into a ball, trying to make herself smaller with the strength she had left, wanting to sink into the floor and end it all. Why couldn't she just rest? Why couldn't everything just stop?

Silence. Breathe, tick tock, time passed. She was only aware of her own shaky breath, her long, tangled blonde hair falling into her eyes. 

A scream ripped through the cell which the Doctor registered too late to be her own, a soft trickle of blood falling from the bridge of her nose. *What?* *What??* Her eyes opened wide in fear to see the man before her holding a thin pocket knife, the bridge of her nose starting to drench in red, flowing thick and fast. The Doctor let strangled cries slip, her mind swirling in confusion, he said he would save her! 

Time, time was fast, too fast, too much- her mind bubbled and fizzed, her hands clenched until her nails dug into the skin of her palms. Before she knew what was happening, the sharp point of a needle protruded into her nose and her world went blank. Utterly still, utterly calm. Too calm. Tha-thunk. Tha-thunk. Tha-thunk. Tha-thunk. Heartsbeat. Four hearts, beating with time. But there was no time- no place. She had been in this strange world before. Between reality and- something else. A void of nothing. Terrified, the Doctor cried out, she couldn't be alone. 

"Shh, now," the man's voice flitted into her mind, soft and calm, relaxing her body. "You're safe. I can't fully complete the transfer, it'll be- off for a while yet. How do you feel?"

"...Fuzzeh," the Doctor replied, her voice croaked but somehow, her vocal chords could move once again. "Mind- cant...can' think...time- too much time..."

"It'll be like that until I stablize the telepathic field," the man's voice sounded more sympathetic. "I've had to inject some of my own medication into your skin to get you out, you wouldn't respond to anything else. I had to-"

"Memry- wipe," the Doctor muttered, her hands clutching the sides of her heads as if to stop the burning, searing pain. "I don- I dont know what's real... I cant..."

"They dug deeper into your mind before I ever showed up," the man said gently. "Why? What were they looking for? What is it you remember?"

"War," the Doctor replied after a long, agonizing silence. "S-so much...war. Death. Blood. Screamin-"

"They wanted memories from when you were a soldier," the Master realized, the truth hitting him like a full speed train. "Mixed around all your memories to take you back to the sight of the battlefields. They want something- from Gallifrey. It's obvious they knew you were the timeless child, why else would they catch you? What is it you know? They must've told you something." 

The Doctor tried to focus her swirling thoughts, her mind whizzing through time, one battlefield to the next, screams and utter chaos echoing through her head, fire and flood reflected in he eyes. 

"Division," she managed to say quietly. "They wan- th' Division. I told- em." 

"Told them?" the Master raised an eyebrow. "Told them what? Doctor? You know the terms and agreements of the Division, you more than anyone. Any breach in the contract means death. From Rassllion's own hand."

The Doctor couldn't answer even if she wanted to, already starting to slip away again as the odd room with no concept of time faded away from her vision. She squeezed her eyes shut as time and space compressed around her, squeezed her insides, pressed everything together until it was so tightly uncomfortable that she couldn't even breathe...and when she opened her eyes, she was somewhere the Doctor never expected to be again. Her gaze drifted across the old furniture, twisting staircases and dark rooms of Villa Diodati, but the fizzing inside her had mercifully stopped. She could breathe again- 

"Why here?" 

"You're with me," the Master sighed in relief. "Thought I'd lost you for a while."

The Master, that's right. This man who had saved her was called the Master. How had he managed to break in? How did he get her out? Was she even out of the Judoon prison? Was she still- alive? The Doctor dreaded to know the answer, her expression twisted in confusion as she walked around the space. It bubbled in and out of reality, almost not quite there.

"I've created a time lapse," the Master explained. "No way in or out, thought I chose quite a good date. The summer after Mary Shelly stayed with that pompous twit Lord Byron. I did find his little poem about you, by the way. She walks in beauty? How quaint. It's a safe house. A moment frozen in time, no time travelers welcome except us. Time feels still here, I thought it would be a good location."

"H-how- how did you find me?"

"I looked for you as soon as I left Gallifrey," he said. "Knew you shouldn't be alone- but I also knew something was wrong when I couldn't find you on Earth, or across any of the nearby galaxies. Your fam helped me track you down to the Judoon prison after scrounging up the remains of UNIT's scientists. I'll admit, I went against my best work ethics to bring you here, Doctor, so the least you could do is show a bit of gratitude." 

"I've *nothing* to thank you for," she growled. 

"Not yet," the Master agreed, a tilt of his head in annoyance. "You haven't even let me do a medical examination. Fainted out cold first time in my TARDIS, screamed and cursed bloody murder when I even tried to touch you. What am I gonna do with you, Doctor?"

"Y' can let me go," the Doctor snarled. "*Don't* touch me! Jus' let me go, I don't want this- don't want-"

"Save the dramatics, would you?" the Master rolled his eyes. "I've had to deal with enough procuring you in my TARDIS. I will examine everything once I've got you under. This is a mental space, Doctor. You couldn't escape if you wanted to. But I need to know, before you drift off, so to speak. What did you tell the Judoon? About the Division?"

"The purpose," the Doctor replied after a long pause. "I told em what we stood for. Didn't seem to like it. Tried to make me a soldier."

The Master sighed, pinching the brim of his nose. The Doctor never failed to exasperate him with how much she put herself in danger, and how much she didn't seem to realize it would one day be impossible for her to be saved. She needed to understand how much he really did care about her, even if his way of showing it was razing an entire planet to the ground. 

"I created this place for you, Doctor," he said. "A place where you can rest- recover. Through unorthodox means, admittedly. I went back and messed around the timelines a bit, took the most vulnerable weak point in time and space and made an alternate reality. As for how I got you out- the governer's son of a powerful intergalactic law firm was visiting the prison for a research paper, I managed to kill him while he was in transit and take his place. It took me months to find the right cell that you were in, almost didn't recognize you when I did."

"I don't like how ya did it," she said flatly, giving him a deep glare. "Don't expect a thank you."

"You cant- you can't have...*wanted* to stay there," the Master said cautiously, stepping forward. "*Did* you? How far did they mess up your mind?" 

"It was safer there," the Doctor said quietly. "I- *I* was safer. Couldn't hurt anyone." 

*Oh.* That was how they did it. The Master thought from the moment he saw her it was the simple physical torture, but the Doctor had been through worse before and survived. No, this was psychological manipulation- turning her into the monster. Ripping away every last essence of who she was, starting with the horrible red prison uniform, her slicked, tangled hair that desperately needed a wash. Probing deeper into her mind in time and turning her against herself. He winced when she took a step back at the gentle touch on her hand, his mind reaching out across the physical plane to send calming waves of energy towards her own. Her blue eyes softened, her ragged breaths became more even the more he traced her palm with his thumb.

"Understand this, Doctor," he ordered. "If you don't listen to anythin' else- you're *not* the monster. That's all them. You're safe here. I'm going to start seeing to your wounds- you shouldn't feel much, but I expect a hell of a lot of resistance if the first two attempts were of a more tame nature. Nothing's going to hurt you, except me. Exactly how I like things."

"No- wait!" she shouted. "Master!" 

The Doctor cried out as he vanished into thin air. A dank chill ran up her spine as the house ticked and creaked and breathed around her. Time was standing still but the crooked manor was very much alive. Rain pattered against the stained glass windows, the smell of old dust reaching her senses. Calmness still remained from his transfer of energy, but it was forced. Too calm. Too silent. Here was a silent, timeless place for the timeless child to rest her mind, to feel at home with her greatest demon, herself.

It was a shame she wasn't alone.   
......


End file.
